One week until the end of term!

Right, first up, I apologise for the total LACK of originality regarding the titles to these posts. Truly preposterous I know! I am taking a short breather between writing my second Nervous Narratives essay (comparing the portrayal of madness and creativity in Michael Cunningham's novel The Hours and Stephen Daldry's film adaptation-- yeah you know the one... with the wonderful Meryl Streep and Nicole Kidman's prosthetic nose..) and chatting to Chris on Skype.

So yeah there you have it: my last month's worth of evenings in a nutshell. A struggle to type ANYTHING substantial and call it work, combined with a desperate hope that someone - literally anyone- will communicate with me.. except my housemates that is. I am growing rather sick of them (I'm sure I will come to them later...)

My countdown began with 14 days to go, so I suppose I should be rather grateful that I have lasted 7days without losing my marbles... okay potentially slightly...but enough of that!

I am rather organised and proud. Having only 3hours contact time a week can drive some people mad, but for me I have started to find comfort in little things. Like treating myself to a slice of cake or brownie from the deliciously exquisite (a.k.a. EXPENSIVE) bakery opposite my house... oh and feeling a sense of ridiculous pleasure at sending off birthday cards in time. This has become a favourite pastime of mine it seems. Only today I sent a little card in the post to my boyfriend to wish him a happy 20th birthday for the 14th December.

Suppose I should do a little shout out. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTOPHE DARLING.

Enough.

So yes, shout out over and back to boring you with my week to date. Happily I have been to 9 hours worth of contact hours this week. That is right my friends- a shocking 3x my usual weekly time spent in class. Proud. I know.

Ahh Chris has come on skype.

Adios my darlings xxx

One Month Minus One Day Until Christmas

Okay, so yesterday it was exactly a month until Christmas, and I have, as my Aussie friends would put it: "heaps" to do.  I am currently a few thousand words down on my big dissertation, which is due in after Christmas, but have to hand in a completed first draft of that, and a 3000 word essay for my other module in the last week before we break up, which means I have exactly 18 days to write approx. 8000 words. Yippee!

Sarcasm over, I am sort of ish coping. Have been suffering from a major break-down, fizzle of energy and contented-ness for the past 2 months since I started back at UEA for my 3rd and final year, but think I am finally back on track. Sorted things out with my lovely boyfriend, and have applied to do a teacher training course at a new university next year, so fingers crossed I get accepted somewhere and that I do well in my final grades and interviews to get a place somewhere!! It's so nice to think that my life doesn't end after my degree, and that I can postpone 'growing up and moving out' for another year at least!

Meanwhile, the end is in sight for my dissertation which is somewhat of a relief, as not only does it mean I won't be dwelling on a far-off deadline and working my literal butt off for what has been the biggest project I have yet undertaken, but hopefully, with two brand new fully-demanding modules next semester, I will be able to actually spend a little more time IN uni!

So far this term, I have only been heading in to university on a Thursday 10-1 when my Nervous Narratives classes are, and thus the remaining 6 days are spend at home, supposedly working, but in reality twiddling my thumbs. Okay not THAT unproductive, but let's just say that there is only so much catch-up TV a girl can watch, and that the 5minutes I spent watching a spider eat a bug outside of my window may have been educational, but was so unrelated to my course it hurt.

So anyways, enough about me. Today is my Daddy's birthday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

Moreover, a shout out must go to Liz, who reminded me that I had a blog and should probably use it, as hers is being put to much better use than mine!

Spending far too much time on fashion blogs  too... http://www.fashiontoast.com/ is perhaps my favourite 'cause the girl is just too damn hot, and her clothes are b-e-a-u-tiful and make me super jealous that she has that as a job- I mean HOW MUCH MONEY does she have that she can just wear amazing stuff all the time! On the other hand, I am quite content munching  my way through biscuits whilst sitting at my laptop, and being told off for my "journalistic" style of writing whilst supposedly sounding all "scholarly" in my dissertation! *sigh* the life of a third year English Literature student at a university on the other side of the country from EVERYTHING. World 1: Katherine 0 

Over and out amigos, until next time here's one little didactic message that Mum sent me on a magnet:

Before you criticise someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticise them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

Love xxxxx

To blog or not to blog, that is the question..

Okay, so it has been a VERY long time since my last post. I have since:
1) Returned to England in time for a lengthy summer holiday season
2) Found myself a little job and preceded to work my butt off for 4 weeks
3) Quit my job
4) Taken a short camping holiday to Wales with my family (minus little bro) and boyfriend
5) Found myself stumped and stressed out as to what I will do my final year dissertation on, whilst watching everyone around me - boyfriend being numero uno example- be ultra-proactive and forward thinking.

*Sigh* It's a hard life! haha! Am currently sitting at my desk in my bedroom, surrounded by clothes that have been upturned from my chair  and still not put away since returning from Wales, which is pretty bad, although we only returned on Friday night, and I spent all of Saturday at family camp in Henley, so really this is the first day I have had to do anything so-called organised.

Woke up at 4.30am this morning with a brainwave, and believe I may have my dissertation topic in the bag! Having spent Saturday with one of my best friends who was remaining hush-hush about her dissertation topic, I have decided that I too will remain closed and quiet and work alone...like a lone wolf... on my project until it is ready to be aired and marked. Will inevitably bounce ideas off of Chris and my parents, but that is only to be expected, of course ;)

Right-o, update over.

Until our next blog, au revoir xx

Bruno Mars- The Lazy Song .. should this be the soundtrack to my day?

As the article's title suggests, it has been reaffirmed that songs (of any genre) really do govern my mood for the day.

Perhaps, therefore, choosing to listen to Bruno Mars' The Lazy Song whilst attempting to complete my Art History assignment was a bad shout. I have 730 words which I am happy with thus far in my essay, which leaves another 1280 words left... *groan*

On a brighter note, tonight I have arranged for the Food Appreciation Society to eat out at a restaurant called "The London: Burgers and Beers", where, let's face it, the majority of interest is male, and even then they are more drawn towards the "beer" than any reference to food in the eatery's name. Nonetheless it looks set to be a good night. I hope.

Clearly when food and music choice both dictate and govern your mood, you are in for a messy night. Especially as I am hoping to drag a small collection of unsuspecting friends out to Monkeybar for a night of Salsa dancing afterwards. Probably didn't really think through the whole process of filling our faces with meat and chips and then having to roll down the street and compete with agile and probably-half-starved clubbing girls fighting for a bit of latino action. Hmm. Nonetheless, as my last night out before Chris arrives, I will try and make it a good one, and be ultra-sociable to everyone who makes the effort to come out, and the brave volunteers who will trek to Monkeybar with me, and witness some rather embarrassing attempts at salsa.

I really would recommend any sort of salsa club though to anyone who is still a salsa-virgin. They are uber fun and, despite the entrance fee, very good value for money. Last time I went to Monkeybar for their Friday night Salsa bonanza, my ears were rewarded with the sweet sound of latino music coming from a live band, and there was mid-night cultural entertainment by men and women dressed up in South American finery and an array of fiesty dance moves. Although I paid $10 to enter, I didn't buy an alcoholic drink all evening as I was too busy dancing and soaking in the atmosphere, and when I did queue up at the bar it was only for a glass of tap water to quench my thirst.

Calories lost + fun gained dancing + good company = well worth the $10 handed over reluctantly at the start of the evening!

And now... back to the essay...

Ciao bellas <3

Excitement brews in room B320

Okay, so I am becoming increasingly excited, and consequently increasingly more distracted, with news that my wonderful boyfriend is soon to be jetting over here to visit me!

But it's also forced me to face reality once more. Coming over here, whisking myself away to foreign lands, and forcing myself to stand on my own two feet, was both an adventure and also an escape. With the end of my time in Australia fast approaching, there's nothing left but to look back and question what I have learnt. What have I learnt about people? About human nature? About myself?

I think I've learnt a few things... firstly, that people are pretty much the same wherever you go. Humans are complicated creatures but we do fit patterns, and wherever you travel people will begin to remind you of other people you already know, and you'll realise that ultimately we are all the same. We all get scared, we all have days when we are moody, grumpy and angry at the world. But we are also highly forgiving creatures, and have a built-in mechanism telling us to always bounce back. Which is why I know that the individuals facing problems and troubles here will recover/become better with time, and that whether or not I am physically here to witness their recovery, they will be fine.

I have learnt that one of the worst things is fear. Fear of the unknown, like when I first travelled out here. Fear of the unknown "peeping Tom" that threatened to sour my last few weeks in Australia. Fear of making no friends, and fear of leaving the ones I eventually did make. Fear of returning home and fear that if I don't I will remain forever in a kind of limbo, never really settled.

I miss my family, and certain foods back at home. I miss how cheap everything feels comparatively. I miss the free fashion magazines with my Dad's Sunday newspapers. I miss Church. I miss all of my friends. And MY GOD did I miss Chris.... and Silkey....and my bedroom.

But there are also things I will miss from here. I will miss living in halls again. I will miss my amazing friends here: the fact Mandy and I could crack ourselves up with a multitude of in-jokes till the cows come home. I'll miss the mischievous free lunches with Lonny, and the fact she loves Scrabble almost as much as Mum! I'll miss Liz' level-headed approach to things, and how she keeps an array of incredible snacks in her room (my fave being the delicious hot choccie we had with marshmallows...oh and the biscuits we dipped into the cheap-clone of nutella). I'll miss forever teasing THE KIRKMEISTER for being such a brain! For being teased by Max for my ridiculously bad cooking; i'll miss hearing suave jazz music from Victor's room at the end of the corridor, and even miss having Des constantly try and convince me that Body Pump will work out my abs and NOT give me the hench biceps I dreaded it would. I'll miss the amazing cockatoos and the possums late at night, I'll miss Thursday nights at Mech [mesh??] and being told by everyone that I NEVER go out to town because no-one sees me!? I'll miss David coming and giving me hugs and how exciteable he became when he discovered the Ozzies DO have Pimms here! I'll miss always high-fiving Sean whenever he mentions Reading festival, and getting into ridiculously deep convos with people over dinner.

I'll miss saying "heaps"

I'll miss hearing Mandy say "crisps" and then give me the evils.

I'll miss Australia. Yes, even Canberra despite the fact it's a literal HOLE and there is nothing here, and the food is gonna make me go bankrupt because it's far too pricey for a student budget.

But hey, roll on these last few days in Canberra, and these last few weeks travelling the rest of Australia. Roll on going home and hugging my parents, and settling into hopefully a wonderful new house with Nish and Peter, and joining new societies at UEA and settling back to the English Literature course and teaching which I miss. Here's to picnics with the M'head Crew by the river, to drinking games back in Norwich, and Cluedo with the 'Holder Household' over summer.

And here's to friendship universally; to global friendships. To the old, the present and what is yet to come.

I'm sure there will be more excitement in store around the corner for me. But  it's time to move on. We can't have it all, but I now know that I CAN do it. I can do it if I put my mind to it, and hey, despite the odd hiccup, God looks out for us, and life is good.

Smile, do something new everyday (or whenever you can), take every opportunity. Love. Laugh. Eat healthily when you can, and if you choose to eat unhealthily, and always eat unhealthily with friends! It tastes so much better eating burgers with mates, and giggling over cake and coffee with your nearest and dearest. If life isn't going your way, go to the gym and sweat it out. Talk to people about your problems, then move on. Learn to love yourself, sit and read, or collect pictures which make you feel happier when you look at them. Pray.

Here's to the future...

Wednesday mornings should be more productive

Wednesdays are the sort of days where you look out of your bedroom window and realise that you are only half way into your week. That the fun of Thursday nights out is still pretty distant, and yet it feels like a millenia since the last time you let your hair down.

Of course I know that this is only my mind playing tricks on me. Was it really only last night that I sat eating Hungry Jacks (the Aussie equivalent of Burger King) with Mandy, and treating ourselves to a divine  cookies & cream shortcake and ice-cream at Milk & Honey afterwards? *sigh* Sadly yes. I can still feel the sugary goodness pumping through my clogged up arteries as we speak...but my, was that a yummy cake! The sort of cake you'd feel positively guilty for eating to yourself, but when shared with a friend or two makes life seem that little bit lighter, and the essays, assignments and exam revision mounting at people's doors back in halls disappear momentarily whilst the chocolate melts in your mouth.

I think saying I have a sweet tooth would be the understatement of the century. I'm not as bad as a certain unnamed individual who is wonderful in every way until he arrives at my door and forces me to go and "overload" with him, and I literally have to roll back into my bedroom a few hours later, my poor jeans groaning under the extra stretch...

What makes it worse is that he never gains a pound! Saying that, his gym pass is well used, whereas I never even bothered buying one. So hey, I guess that's my bad. 

Attempting to take part in a "Body Pump" class tonight. A close girl friend has already warned me that I will be positively aching for the next few days, and will wake up in the mornings with my body yelling "WHYYY?" at me. [This anecdote was made funnier by the fact she decided to warn me whilst we were sitting in a quiet kitchen surrounded by uni students who are no-longer forced to wake up for lectures, and therefore who are more than capable of remembering such embarrassing moments as this, especially when I decide to imitate my friend in a slightly louder tone and get a few weird glances]

Wednesday mornings/early afternoons seem to be an ideal time to procrastinate on stupid things. Like, for example, writing a blog when I know I should be completing an Art History Assignment on what makes Gericault's Raft of the Medusa a Romantic painting. 818 words down, but goodness knows if a stream of quoting other art critics is going to get me any points. Certainly it suggests I've done the research, but also implies that I am an unoriginal old fart with no personal opinions on anything vaguely arty, and should have stuck to my English Lit major and left all creativity alone. Nevertheless, I will continue to plod along through this assignment...any tips/advice/opinions etc will be valued and appreciated. Within reason. If my art teacher is reading this then I do want you to know that as soon as this blog is typed up I am OUT OF HERE.

Going, going, gone..